"Cold...muscle-numbing, bone-jabbing cold" thought the shadow.
He could hardly believe himself when he let out a hearty laugh deep inside, thinking how his body could even now be functioning...but at the same time he understood...understood that he was now only vessel, a machine at the most, one nearing its expiration date. An empty being propelled forward dutifully on a fuel he so despises, Fear. A substance that was as foreign as the purpose of this delivery he was making..that was but a few months back. Now, Fear hung on to him like his shadow, like his oversized cloak he was donning...But the fact that he despises comforted him, like a dim but insistent existence in a dark corner of his mind telling him he's still human, muttering words of silent assurance.
'All for the better good' A steadfast mantra saving the already withered mind from utter obliteration. There were just too many thoughts to think of, too many answers to answer. 'After all, all they said was..' was what the shadow contemplated before his train of thought was brought to a complete standstill.
...Right now, he could not grasp the reason for his inability to either cry, convulse fitfully or even just knock his knees together. At his neck, he felt a cold, wanting steel. A blade that very much wanted to taste his flesh, blood and bones and somehow managed to voice out, to scream, its desires into the heart of its prey.
'So, the stories...they were true...
P.S. Of writer's block=)
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